


Collection of Reflections: A (Mostly) Episode-Based Tale

by MetellaStella



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: Anthropomorphic, Anxiety, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, There aren't enough Brotherly tags for this fandom at all fam, Worldbuilding, Worldbuilding is my anti-drug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-06-16 13:19:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15437907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetellaStella/pseuds/MetellaStella
Summary: Nice little yummy bite-sized chapters!First: When Don finds out the puppy rescuer has been stealing dog food too, he and Mikey have to return and either reckon with his hoarding tendencies or find a way to balance his budget.Second: New York is surprisingly accepting of mutants, with some major exceptions. Political issues abound. Raph argues with Leo about the implications to the turtles and their usual rule to remain hidden. (will be a recurring thread) Mikey, glued to his cartoons, is sure they will become the Spiderman of NY.Third: Mikey is caught on camera spray-painting a building he thought was abandoned. Don saves the day.Fourth: Raph and Leo don’t know their rivalry is legendary in other realities. Blissfully unaware, in this little corner of the multiverse, they are very different.





	1. Lenses and Senses

Don was furious with himself.  
  
Although he hid it well under a calm exterior, as he watched Mikey bounce around the roof they were currently on, he was obsessively repeating their conversation before Todd had revealed himself to be a harmless hamster.  
  
_“Maybe we should call Raph and Leo.”_  
  
_“No, no, we got this, we got this, think of all the awesome adventures we could have in the moon buggy!”_  
  
Why hadn’t he immediately inquired further as to why that was relevant at all? Raph and Leo helping them wouldn’t _prevent_ them from having adventures in the moon buggy. Right? But no, his stupid adolescent brain had gotten distracted and gone along with it. And if he were really honest with himself, he didn’t want to go running for help since he got wrapped up in the tough guy act, too.  
  
Stupid. Stupid. _Stupid._ Why hadn’t he stopped to think? He and Leo prided themselves on being the more strategic of the four. How would he face Leo when he told him he’d risked Mikey’s life _and_ his own over some daydream?  
  
Well, technically not true, as there wasn’t actually any immediate danger. But what if there _had_ been?  
  
What if there **_had been_** a maniac mutant out there?  
  
Unbidden, scenarios began to materialize in his mind. As Mikey cheerfully practiced parkour, the purple clad turtle moodily ruminated.  
  
His thoughts accelerated and got worse until a small biomonitor on his shoulder softly buzzed, alerting him that his heart rate had risen substantially. It was set to do that when he was standing still, as anxiety had easily identifiable biological symptoms. When he was moving, the device ignored upward spikes, except to record any heart arrhythmias that might have occurred.  
  
He’d tried in vain to get each of his brothers to wear one. He had told them again and again that mutants, even though they seemed to be in fine health, superhuman even, still could have some structural problems for all they knew. He recalled nights spent pouring over readings after wheedling his brothers into sitting still for long enough. Their hearts didn’t precisely follow a human rhythm, so he had to adjust for that. The fact that they were each different species complicated it even more. _He had **no** controls._ They couldn't _rightly_  even be compared to _each other._ Dozens of articles crowded his brain, vying for his attention. _Even_ ** _small_** _natural mutations in regular animals could have huge cascades of complications and-_

The device buzzed again.  
  
Right. Getting caught in another downward thought spiral.  
  
He tried to vividly picture Splinter’s hand on his shoulder. _Steady, my son._  
  
His carefully curated unflappability fastened itself back around him, comfortable and familiar, like Doctor Strange’s cloak. He allowed himself to smile, if a bit tightly, and allow the fond memories of the movies to calm him. This was the real him, he said internally. Not that overactive voice that was all too good at conjuring up bad situations and outcomes.  
  
That seemed to appease the device. At least it was doing its **_job_** **.** He, supposed to be the older and more responsible brother, was **_not._**  
  
Anger boiled up in him again, resulting in another buzz.  
  
He wasn’t even mad at Mikey. That was just how his little bro rolled. The young engineer and burgeoning scientist said silently and sternly to himself, all four of them were various levels of hyperactive. If they had _access_ to a human doctor, he was sure one or more of them would qualify for an ADHD diagnosis proper. Yet another lovely aspect of being a mutant, missing healthcare, among all the other-  
  
_Buzz._  
  
Since that was not in the cards, at least not presently, **and** they would be in life threatening situations, he had to be extra vigilant, to the best of his own ability.  
  
If only he could invent a device that had a ‘bad idea’ alert.  
  
An AI could _possibly_ fulfill that role, he reflected. It would be a while before anyone would want to hear the letters “A” and “I” after the Al-bear-to incident, though.  
  
Al. AI. AI. Al. Hm.  
  
He stored the potential visual pun for in the future after everyone had put some more distance between themselves and the destroyed pizza parlor.  
  
He glanced at his armband, picturing it talking to him like Jarvis to Tony Stark. That would be **_so awesome._** The nerd affectionately played around with the idea. Robotic voice? Or female? He could tinker with an already existing GPS extension option, introduced in 2013, and have the celebrity custom voices, even. The device on his bicep was a splice between a H.E.L.O. and a Misfit Shine 2. A competing brand obviously meant to hint at the Fitbit, it was appropriate enough name for him and his brothers, right? It was a Swimmer’s Edition, since they spent a great deal of time in the water. The H.E.L.O. 's last letter referred to it as an Oracle, so perhaps he should get some mystic sounding voice. Also would be appropriate given the magic weirdness they had been thrust into.  
  
It was even an intentionally created hybrid, just like some mutants. He had found the two brands on Google, ordered them, popped both of them open and fitted a small solar charger panel to the cross-wired result. They were both wristwatches, but he modified their fasteners, too, with a little help from a 3D printer. Then he nixed the Himalayan sea salt plates. Even _before_ a trip to Snopes and other fact-checker websites his bullcrap meter- spider sense? he joked to himself- was going off the charts with the claims of health benefits by pseudoscience peddlers. And not only had he been proven right, the salt apparently contained mercury, arsenic, lead, thalium, radium, uranium, polonium, and plutonium. All the exact opposite of healthy even to the most unschooled. He chuckled to himself as he imagined reading off that list to Mikey. How many would he recognize as toxic or radioactive? Would the orange banded turtle stop paying attention once he ‘got the picture’ as he usually did?  
  
That though brought him back to his present dilemma. What were they going to tell Raph and Leo? ‘Oh hey, we just went on an ill-advised adventure and deliberately left you out of it.’  
  
He sighed.  
  
_Buzz._


	2. Stowing and Stoic

“Hey Mikey!” Don called.  
  
Mikey halted too fast, flapping his arms for balance for a moment and wobbling back and forth.  
  
“Wh-whoa, whoa,” he righted himself without falling over. “Yeah?”  
  
Don made sure to keep his voice free from accusation. What was done was done, and the sensitive Mikey didn’t react well to being chastised. Ironic that _Don_ was the ‘soft’shell. But the purple banded turtle was still really curious. “Why were you so _dead set_ on keeping Raph and Leo out of this?”  
  
In the most matter-of-fact way, especially for the bouncy, smallest of the brothers, he replied, “The buggy is way too small to fit Raph in it, Don. He’d be _crushed_ if he found out about it.”  
  
Don smirked. “I assume you meant emotionally and not _literally._ Though that works, too.”  
  
“Huh?” Mikey’s brow furrowed as he parsed out his meaning. “Ohhhh, haha yeah. If he squished himself in there, tried to lower the dome.” He grinned. “But seriously, Don. _I_ may claim the title of _biggest_ fan,” his small chest puffed out proudly, “but Raph’s no slouch. He’d be _really upset._ ” His round face drew up and he puffed out a lip.  
  
Warmth pricked down Don’s arms at both his brother’s sheer adorableness and his thinking of others. Yeah, Raph would probably try to cover up his disappointment and be tough about it, but that wouldn’t make it an _inch_ past Mikey.

A side of his mind reminded him that wasn’t _nearly_ good enough a reason to risk their safety, but he shooed it aside. Mikey didn’t think like that. It wasn’t that conscious of a decision. He could hash that out later with him. Right now he just wanted to purely enjoy his little brother’s thoughtfulness.  
  
“So we’re only going to clue Leo in?” the softshell asked.  
  
Mikey put his hands on his hips. “Do-oooon,” he whined, “you _know_ Leo can’t keep a _secret_ from _Raph._ Get your _head_ in the game, _space case!_ ”  
  
The irony doubled, and Don was torn between chuckling and being insulted. Head in the game? _He_ wasn’t the one who had just threw out _backup_ just to-  
  
He breathed. Again, not going to help, he reminded himself.  
  
And it wasn't like he didn’t often have a wandering mind, too, though it was of another flavor.

“So where are we going to _keep_ it?” he glanced down at the moon buggy, taking up four spaces in a Walmart parking lot. _Technically_ the stores allowed people to park overnight, but it would draw attention and just getting to it without people seeing them would be hard. It certainly couldn’t stay indefinitely.

Mikey shrugged. “ _You’re_ the brainiac.”

A slothful sort of irritation set in. Of course, _he_ was always the one who was supposed to figure things out around here. He was so used to it, it didn’t faze him much anymore.  
  
“All right. Hey, we just built a whole puppy paradise for Todd. The lazy lug _owes_ us. Why don’t we keep it there?”  
  
“Noooo,” the younger wailed dramatically, “Don, the _first_ thing **Raph** ’s gonna want to do is meet the _puppies_ and Todd! DUH!” Mikey harrumphed, and Don realized that his younger brother was actually getting a little bit _annoyed_ at him. As if he weren’t thinking things through. The meter between being amused and being insulted was wavering more towards insult, but he easily kept cool.

Well, I guess it’s time to search the archive of buildings that are abandoned around town, Don thought. There were sites on the Dark Web that logged where empty ones were.  
  
“I’ll take care of it, Mikey,” Don assured him. Now that he understood they couldn’t keep it in the sewers for fear of the others discovering it, he’d find a way. And he’d have to set up some wireless cameras, possibly activated by motion sensors. Do-able, he concluded, beginning the preliminary mental logistics of which ones were in working order, could be spared, and which ones were currently eviscerated. Viscera. Such a cool word. ‘Paper viscera’ was truly an inspired phrase, he thought smugly. “It’s fine for right now. Let’s head back home and get some food. I’m starving.” But no salami. _Definitely_ no salami. He'd even been off of pepperoni for a while because it was too similar. Only sausage bits for this turtle.    
  
Don revved up his hover bot and Mikey shot a sidelong look at him.  
  
“Mikey, my muscles are not going to atrophy away if I don’t run everywhere we go.”  
  
“OK, well, y’know Raph takes training pretty seriously and he ain’t gonna let that _fly_ all the time.”  
  
Don raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. “Did you just make a _pun?_ ”  
  
“I’m a visual artist, not a word one. But I can dig it. _Word._ ” Cheeky to a fault, Mikey played it for all it was worth.  
  
“Well, I just got a little _cheesiness_ to help sate my hunger,” Don replied.  
  
“Dunno if I can keep up with you.”  
  
“Oh you won’t be able to keep **_up_ ** with me on this hover bot, that’s for sure.”  
  
The younger winked. “You’re rubbing off on me, bro.”  
  
A bit of mentorly pride welled up in the gearhead’s chest.

* * *

 **Writer’s Note:** I don’t actually know if the Dark Web has such information on it. Given that some users tap it for hideous purposes, I figured it was a possibility. Also, if Don existed, he would know much more about it than I do and _how_ it and the Deep Web actually worked in order to stay invisible from ordinary internet searches. I considered having the turtles having some friends like Sherlock’s ‘homeless network’ that could inform them where there were properties and warehouses that had been vacant for a while. (first started with people they figured acted too crazy to be believed about giant talking turtles) But eh. The problem will be resolved better eventually anyway.  
  
 **8/16/18**  
I'm dating this chapter individually because if Raph not fitting in the buggy ever comes up in canon I want to be able to say "CALLED IT!"  
  
Or anything else I write, for that matter, like his objecting to Don using the hoverbot because he's 'lazy.'   
  
Happy Number Palindrome Week, y'all. (81618, started with 81318). Next year it'll be in September. NERD POWER! *Don's staff crackles*


	3. Zero Room for Error

Yo Peeps! Anybody going to Dragoncon tomorrow (Saturday)? I will be there in an incredibly last minute thrown together Donatello cosplay. (And will likely be there Monday, too) 

* * *

After they had eaten, Mikey was carefully but enthusiastically recounting their adventure to Raph.  
  
He had to make up many parts, for example to come up with a reason they agreed to do the repo work for Mantis. But he was an artist. He could be creative when it counted. As he went on, Mikey thought Raph didn’t seem to sense anything amiss.  
  
Leo might be trickier, Mikey warned himself. He’d deal with that when they found him.  
  
He omitted wholly that Mantis thought Todd, the RV occupant, was dangerous. He’d mentioned to Don before they got to the sewers, why worry their brothers about that? It seemed to make Don visibly relax, which made Mikey yell _Score!_ in his head. This was gonna be _easy_ , he assured his older brother. Just let _me_ take point.  
  
You take care of the buggy; I’ll take care of the broskis.  
  
Stone-face Don had actually cracked a big smile. Mikey had _also_ omitted that he considered the overthinking Don not a very good fibber anyway, even for noble purposes. He, on the other hand, had told his share of tall tales in his day, mischievous little scamp. He could be chill as a New York spring and smooth and slippery as a seal mutant.  
  
“Sounds more like a guinea pig than a hamster,” Raph said after the little box turtle described Todd.  
  
“Like it _matters._ ” Don said sarcastically.  
  
“The _scientist_ not wanting _accuracy?_ ” The huge snapping turtle belligerently crossed his arms. With as much grief as Don gave them over some concepts and terms, he wasn’t going to let him off easily.  
  
“I mostly only study turtles and some other reptiles, as that is sort of pivotal to our _survival,_ ” Don’s biting sarcasm cut a warpath through Raph’s attempted comeuppance. “The warm and fuzzy things are more _your_ bag.”

“I’ll bet Master Splinter would be very _in-_ terested to hear about your snubbing rodents,” Raph replied sharply.  
  
Don rolled his eyes.  
  
Mikey frowned. That triggered a couple of unpleasant memories. Sure, Master Splinter didn’t like the violent methods humans resorted to in order to keep the rat population down. But what were they supposed to do? Let disease run rampant?  
  
Not that his feelings had justified his slapping Leo over the subject, in his opinion.  
  
Don interrupted his thoughts. “This dude was _nothing_ like Splinter. Yeah, sensei likes his creature comforts, but he’s still _in shape_. Overweight people _can_ be very fit. There was an article on Pop Science about it. But. Todd was so fat it looked like he hadn’t run in his whole life. And he couldn’t even be bothered to clean up his dog’s-”  
  
“Jeez, that’s mean, Don,” Mikey said.  
  
“Truth hurts.”

Raph narrowed his eyes.

Mikey went on with his story. When he had described Don’s next ‘sidebar,’ as his brother called them, he said, “And I was getting swept right up in it, you know, the cute little things! Don was being all hardboiled and pushed puppies-”

“You did _what_ to puppies?” Raph yelled, “I knew you were **_cold_ ** , but that’s just- I’m gonna put you in a _world_ of hurt, Don-” he advanced quickly and as the purple clad turtle spun out of the way, he hissed out, “ ** _Word choice,_ ** Mikey!”  
  
“No, no Raph, I mm-mean it- like, dude, not- like- like _shoved_ \- it was more like he _gently rolled them away_ ,” Mikey chattered in fumbled syllables at hyper speed.  
  
“No getting out of this one, Don, you messed up _prick!_ ” Raph swiped and missed.  
  
Mikey was beginning to panic. At easily three times their weight, Raph being good and truly pissed off was **_dangerous_**. And few things hit closer to home for him than animals. Just like their father. Mikey even suspected he was still sore from Mystic rejecting him. The smallest turtle tried to keep a safe distance. “Just calm down!”  
  
“Calm down? _Calm down??_ ” Raph briefly switched his burning gaze to Mikey though he made no move to attack him. It was only briefly. He noticed the lankier turtle had gotten farther away and redoubled his rampage.    
  
He had put a man in the hospital after he had found him ignorantly ‘disciplining’ a dog with a belt.  
  
It was only lucky the doctors considered the man delirious when they found him, and didn’t believe a word he said.  
  
Where was Leo when you needed him, Mikey thought.

“ _Raph, you can ask Todd, he’ll tell you!_ ” Mikey insisted desperately.  
  
In reply, Raph put a _dent_ in a wall where Don’s chest had just been.  
  
Not knowing what else to try, Mikey called at the top of his lungs, “ _DAD!_ ”  
  
The small rat sprinted in at his tone. Although sometimes it took a few moments due to his limbs falling asleep, he could for the most part go from utterly relaxed and easygoing to battle mode in an instant, a trait Leo had picked up from him. Without so much as a _“what’s wrong,”_ the short little creature made a swift beeline to the biggest turtle and jabbed his knuckles into the back of his leg.  
  
Raph yelped at the savage pressure point strike and Mikey winced, instantly feeling sorry even though he had probably done the right thing.  
  
The snapping turtle stumbled, as Splinter, light on his feet, pulled back out of his long reach. But the littlest mutant was clearly ready to dole out another hit with Kyusho Jutsu style if necessary to stop him, as he could not be restrained by any of them. Skill trumped bulk. Raph hissed under his breath in what Mikey assumed were curses that he, as the youngest, ‘shouldn’t’ know yet. But Raph hadn’t keep his voice down _every_ time this had happened. Mikey never let on that he’d heard him.  
  
“Now. Explain.” Splinter said tersely.  
  
Raph tried to start a rant, but Mikey’s competing voice clustered in a confused clash. Splinter raised a hand, palm forward, and both brothers went silent. “Let Michelangelo speak first.”  
  
Mikey outlined the situation, and while he was talking, Don came easing back towards them.

Splinter nodded after he was done. “Raphael, have more faith in your brothers.” That was all he said before he turned away.  
  
Raph huffed.  
  
“Yeah dude,” Don said. “You really think I would **_do_** something like that?”  
  
Raph worked his hip, trying to get some more feeling back into the limb. “Well considering you were being a _jerk_ from the _moment_ you walked in here-”  
  
“Hey, I’m _not in the best_ mood, because I _didn’t appreciate_ being manipulated and guilted into something, ok? Maybe all Mikey recalls of the adventure is cute puppy faces and free sunshine lemonade, but **_I_** realize that was probably how he avoided payments from collectors for **_two years_** , that he was buttering us up on _purpose!_ ”  
  
“Hey!” Mikey protested.  
  
“And-” Don began, but then shrugged.  
  
“What?” Mikey said curiously.  
  
“Nothing.”  
  
Mikey set his face determinedly. If something else was going on, he’d find out what was bothering his brother. Maybe not right this moment, but he _would._  
  
He noticed Don glancing towards a piece of tech on his shoulder. Was there something wrong with it?  
  
Then the orange banded turtle stopped and thought a moment. “So you wouldn’t have offered to build the place if there was nothing in it for _you?_ ” he asked Don. “Raph’s right, then, you _are_ cold.”  
  
“No. I mean. I probably _would_ have anyway. It’s just-” Don threw up his hands. “We were doing his work _for_ him even before that. I’m _allowed_ to be frustrated!”  
  
Fair enough, Mikey thought.

Glad the mishap hadn’t escalated more, he finished up his recounting to the red masked turtle. Raph rocked back on his heels and forward again. “So Mike, when do I get to go to this doggy wonderland place?”

“Oh, uh,” Mikey shrugged. “Whenever you want, bro. But let’s get Leo first!”  
  
“Yeah, he’ll be excited too.” He grinned. “But not as excited as _me_ ,” the biggest brother said somewhat competitively.

* * *

  **Writer’s Note:** Word choice saves lives.


	4. Salt and Salve

Headcanons launching here that may have to be reworked later. My Splinter seems to be a bit of a jerk, per what we've seen so far, but less uncaring in that he- so far- takes things much more seriously. Darn you, Muse. You're so impatient. You rush ahead of canon like an overeager toddler. Of course, even though the episodes are "premiering" on Sept 17th, we won't get new episodes until the end of November. Sigh. So go ahead and have your fun, I guess.   
  
Wednesday, Sept. 4th. Thirteen days until showtime.   
  
Aaaaand, scene. Marker. Speed. Turtle family dysfunctional dynamics, Take One. Action!

* * *

“Arrrgh, Leo left his phone here.” Mikey held up the device. “We’re going to have to split up to look for him.”  
  
What a pain in the neck.  
  
Or, what an adventure, the cheerier side of his mind suggested. He went with that.  
  
“If our heads detached rather than retracted,” Don said dryly, “I think we’d leave _them_ lying around.”  
  
“Not me,” Raph asserted.  
  
Mikey looked at the phone. Forlorn, like a little lost puppy, the artist imagined. Or maybe a lost pet . . . beetle? Would that make flip phones inch worms?  
  
Suddenly his fingers itched for a sketchpad.  
  
Don shrugged. “Maybe.”  
  
“When was the last time I left my phone here?” Raph challenged.  
  
“I dunno, you know my episodic memory sucks,” the nerd replied.    
  
“Your what now?”  
  
“Episodic memory. What happens in your life. Versus semantic memory. For facts,” Don said impatiently. “I’ve told you this before. You have the best episodic memory of all of us, so if _you_ can’t remember the last time you left your phone here, I know none of _us_ can.”  
  
“I know it’s been _longer_ since I have.”  
  
“Yeah, and probably more infrequently,” Don qualified, “but it still happens plenty.” Then the purple banded turtle snickered. “Heh, so your semantic memory can’t retain what semantic memory means. It’s like Inception.”  
  
Both of his brothers gave him weird looks.  
  
“It’s funny,” he assured them. “But anyway, let’s get to the task at hand, we’re getting sidetracked.”

“You mean _you’re_ getting sidetracked. Yeah. Let’s go. If you’re done being pretentious,” Raph sniped.

Don opened his mouth to retort-  
  
“Guys, come ooooon,” Mikey pushed Raph, which by itself would have done nothing, but it was more for effect. Like a ‘shoo, get moving’ to a sentient boulder, the artist thought. Again his fingers itched. But, better get to business. “Bickering’s not going to get us anywhere.”  
  
“Very literally.” Don said.

“Fine, fine,” Raph relented, though Mikey was pretty sure he really wanted to get some more jabs in.

They determined who would go in what direction, split up their most common hangout spots among themselves, and as the other two headed out, Don hung back for a moment.  
  
“Are you alright, my son?”  
  
He knew Splinter would want to talk to him after an incident like that. Predictable. Like clockwork. Simple cause and effect.  
  
“For now.” Don said, voice sagging. “It’s funny, it takes a while to sink in. I might not have bad dreams for a few nights, but it’ll hit me after that.”  
  
“Your mind is so occupied it cannot tend to its own wounds right away.” The rat didn’t say it with judgement, but there was clearly an implied suggestion.  
  
“I know, I know, I need to meditate more. But it’s _so_ boring.”  
  
“Learning lines of code was never boring?” the rat replied evenly.  
  
“Well, I mean, yeah.”  
  
“You found the motivation to power through that,” his father said. “You will have to locate the motivation to keep quieting your mind.”  
  
“Raph didn’t even apologize.”  
  
“Don’t deflect.”  
  
“You never make it about _his_ anger,” he said wearily, “you’re always on _me_ about staying more grounded. Well you know what, I’m sick of that.”  
  
“Raph is doing his best. He puts in far more hours to tame himself than you do to address your balance,” his father replied, equally as evenly as he had throughout the entire exchange. “You don’t like to face that, because then you cannot play the victim. _This_ time you were not antagonizing him, but that has not always been the case. I won’t tolerate you instigating and baiting and then complaining about what results. Remember that.”  
  
“Well, I’m sure I’ll find more sympathy with Leo,” Don said coldly. “Even if he won’t take Raph to task either.”  
  
Raph and Leo were thick as thieves. The other two were all too aware.  
  
Don’s response to that was to cling harder to Leo and backbite Raph more. Mikey, on the other hand, did his darndest not to play favorites, and dole out his time to be exactly fair to everybody. It was the only area in which he was as meticulous as Don working on a project.

It was all somewhat complicated by the fact that, by necessity, Splinter _had_ to spend the most time with Raph. His meditation sessions were much longer and involved than the other brothers, because their safety depended on it.

Even being annoyed at Splinter, Don found he couldn’t sit on this secret that was chewing on him. Maybe the youngest could hold his peace about the buggy, but Don didn’t need yet another thing to eat a hole in his brain. At least he could confide in one person. He knew from prior experience that Splinter would not _rat_ him out, pun intended. The words came easily, and to complete the picture he told Splinter about Mikey not seeming to truly comprehend the danger of the situation, either.  
  
His sensei considered his burden for a few moments.  
  
“Let me talk to Michelangelo about being more careful and sticking together, at least,” he said finally. “You don’t have to shoulder that, son. It’s not your job to get his head set straight, it’s mine. This incident is over, and cannot be redone . . . I doubt anything like it will happen in the future, either. But, he _will_ have to be more aware. As for concealing the vehicle, that’s your joint decision to make. He would not handle me forcing the issue very well, I’m sure.”  
  
Memories of Mikey pouting over various decisions popped up in his memory. They were foggy, because of his poor quality brain storage. Dang, how he wished he had a camera cyber eye implant. Minimally invasive, of course.  
  
The rat paused for longer.  
  
“Why will you not talk to your brothers about _your_ problems?”  
  
“I have my armband. I’m _taking care of_ it.” He patted his arm confidently. It was not a front. He truly felt like he had it under control, or at least as well as could be expected. “I thought you were all about meditation, why suddenly ask about that?”  
  
“That is not the _only_ way to relieve pressure. I still don’t understand why you’re so against talking.”  
  
“Because they never have the reaction to things that I do. None of them _get it._ It’s not that they were ever mean about it. It’s just- they knew what the armband was for when I first made it. But since it’s been a couple years it’s just kind of slipped their minds now that I don’t show the outwards signs so much. It the same as all my other tech buzzing or beeping at random times. They don’t need to worry, I do that plenty of that to cover all of our quota.”  
  
“But-”  
  
“Look, that’s _not_ what I care about right **now** . Guess _everyone’s_ boarded the ‘Let Raph Off Easy’ train.”  
  
“ _Raph_ is the one who had to just endure a strike near his sciatic nerve. Pray you never experience that. It’s very unlikely, as the height difference between us makes it much more useful to me than it would anyone who’d attack you from behind.” He grimaced and drummed one set of claws on his own thigh in agitation. “One of your ideas of ‘making it up to you’ was to have him do your chores for two weeks. I should’ve made you pull double duty to even it back out, but Mikey convinced me to leave you alone. Don’t make me rethink that.”  
  
I’ll do what I _want,_ Don thought.  
  
And that would probably include quietly sulking.  
  
But right now, he wanted to find the person who radiated calm. The person who could make it at least somewhat better.


	5. Cool Colors

So, it's been a while since I updated this story. Wonder if you remember it. Speaking of memory, guess what guys, MY memory didn't recall the names of the type of memory correctly. I put remembering facts down (through Don's mouth) as declarative memory, but actually declarative memory can be divided into the two types- episodic (for events) and semantic (for facts). SO the Inception reference has officially come full circle, and my brain hurts a little, and I don't think it's from the cold I have! Ha!  
  
That's what I get for reading psychology articles and a book about mind palaces and not double checking. I think Sherlock would be very disappointed.   
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Success!  
  
Don found Leo first, kicking about a building above High Line park.   
  
The park, made from a reclaimed railway, sported concrete pourings that looked like giant fork tines lined up side by side. Mikey often said that they made him hungry for pasta. Splinter had seen it as a good environment for teaching the boys footing on different materials- the tines were right alongside earthen plant beds. Should the boys ever need to adjust between the two experiences, here was a place to switch between them quickly to feel out the differences.   
  
Leo was watching people move around below, like little ants, which lent itself even more to the impression of lots of forks.   
  
"Yo Leon!" Don called.   
  
He looked up.   
  
"Man have Mikey and I got a lot to fill you in on," the purple banded turtle said eagerly.   
  
"Yeah? Spill!"  
  
Don spoke in what he hoped was a non-suspicious manner, "You know Mikey's a better story teller than I am." Better at 'telling stories.' As in, a parent wagging their finger at a kid saying, 'Are you telling me a story?'  
  
"Yeah I guess," Leo nodded thoughtfully.  
  
"Oh, and you left your phone."  
  
"Aw, dang. I gotta stop doing that," Leo said seriously. "One day I'm going to get in trouble and I won't be able to call on your guys."   
  
"I dunno, man, if you master that portal ability, that might be moot," Don pointed out.   
  
"Waste magic energy just from forgetting a phone?" Leo quirked an eyebrow. "Doesn't seem very efficient."  
  
"Have you butted up against any limitations on how many times you can use it?" Don asked, very curious.   
  
"Well no, just getting it to work seems to be the main obstacle right now. But better to plan for a worst case scenario, you know?"   
  
He said it so cooly, and Don's face fell. Why couldn't he just stay like that when considering bad outcomes instead of sinking into an anxious mess? Ironically, instead of making him feel better as his brother's attitude usually did, it was jabbing him at his weak points. Normally he'd love discussing strategy with him. But apparently today was just not his day.   
  
"Hey, what's the matter?"  
  
Don decided he would talk about the other thing that was bothering him. "Raph flipped out at me before we left to look for you." Leo could tell from his tone that he meant more than just the average outburst.   
  
"What?! Why?"   
  
Don explained the whole ordeal, trying not to leave anything out.   
  
Leo rubbed his head and sighed. "Yeah I gotta side with you on that one. That was a stupid thought, he shouldn't have had it in the first place."  
  
Don perked up. "Wait, really?"  
  
"Yeah, of course. Why do you sound so surprised?"  
  
"It's just . . . you always make excuses for him."  
  
"Yeah sometimes, but not _**all** _ the time."  
  
Don considered that maybe his faulty memory was warping the tally on Raph. All-or-nothing thinking was one of the many types of psychological traps he had been reading about. His father was always nudging him towards mindful awareness techniques. Supplemented by online searches, of course. The often lazy rat had waved a hand once and said, 'you have a treasure trove of knowledge at your fingertips. I'm not going to spoonfeed you everything. There is no excuse, Donatello." Couching his own laziness as Don's laziness. That was really charming, wasn't it? He had then promptly gone back to napping.   
  
On the other hand, he did somewhat of a point.   
  
Subsequent lectures about using such a powerful tool as the internet on trivial things was also pretty hypocritical considering the amount of time the master spent in front of the TV, though.   
  
"Don, you still with me?"  
  
He had spaced out. Big surprise, he thought sarcastically. Just typical Don, but this was a special kind of low.   
  
"How long ya gonna keep me in suspense? And where's my phone?"  
  
"Mikey has it." He pulled out his own phone and put both of his warm-color-themed brothers on conference call. When he'd approached Leo he would've liked a little more time with just him, but obviously he was so out of sorts right now, best to get this all over with.   
  
  



End file.
